And it was true, she really wanted to touch that…well the hard evidence of his desire. His man thing. Though she doubted she’d ever get the chance now. Harry Bellingham most likely thought her promiscuous and did not want her touching his thing! For, he was probably no longer at Stonedown. She had no doubt Harry Bellingham had fled before dawn. Hardly any doubt. He might have left Stonedown. Still, she hoped he had not. She wished for Harry Bellingham to still be at Stonedown. Please God, let him stay! She wanted him to stay.
It was doubtful there would be anymore kisses from Harry Bellingham. He might avoid her. Oh, he probably would. Sir John and Aunt Frances would wonder why. She’d have no choice but to move to Italy. Florence perhaps? Maybe Rome? Even Venice might be a nice place to live. For she couldn’t stand the pain of Harry Bellingham avoiding her. Somehow Rowena just knew that she could not. She was perfectly happy for every other man in the world to avoid her. Just not Harry Bellingham.
Get hold of yourself! Rowena took a deep breath before leaving her room. There was only one way to find out how Harry would treat her after last night. That was to exit her bedchamber, find him, face him and see what happened. If he were still here. Once she saw him, she would know. Then she could begin packing her trunks. And depart for Italy. Oh she would miss Glastonbury! Rowena sniffed and left her bedchamber.
She saw Harry Bellingham in the entry hall near the door as she made her way down the stairs. She nearly froze, however, being in mid step on the stair. She righted the near stumble quickly by grabbing the smooth railing. Was he leaving? She felt her heart pounding in her chest. No! Harry was not leaving Stonedown. He was walking toward her. He was smiling! Surely that was a good sign!
“Good morning, Lady Rowena.” Harry waited at the bottom of the stairs, his hand resting on the balustrade, as he smiled up at her.
“Good morning, Harry.” They were familiar all last evening, no point in going back to the formal now. How could she when his man thing rubbed against her belly and she put her tongue in his mouth? Oh dear. Oh, well. She might be moving to Italy soon, in any case.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry offered his arm. “May I escort you to breakfast,” his voice lowered, became a whisper as his lips grazed her ear, “Rowena?”
“Yes, t-thank you, Harry.” Rowena stole a quick glance at him as she placed her hand on his arm. She was still unsure how he felt about what transpired between them last night. He looked normal. Like he did yesterday and the day before. Kind, congenial. Hmm? Oh dear.
“Lady Rowena, I was wondering if you minded my telling Lyon, Micah and Charlie about the visit you received from William Dulac. I assure you, they will not think poorly of you in any way for seeing a ghost. They will believe you, as I do. I’ve not yet had the chance to explain the complete nature of our society, the Avalon Society. It is not limited to just historical pursuits, but to the study of the paranormal as well. I do believe we should check the wardrobe in your room today, since that is where William Dulac’s ghost was pointing.”
He felt her tense beside him. He placed his free hand over hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze before removing it. “Will you trust me, Lady Rowena, with your secret?”
Would she trust him? Could Rowena trust him? She wanted to. She looked up. Searched his eyes, his expression. In his eyes she saw no mockery, no anger. She did not feel as if she were being manipulated or controlled. Harry merely smiled down at her. It was an irresistible smile, one that made him look even more handsome, if that were possible. Rowena shyly returned his smile. “If you think it best to tell it. I will trust you with my secret, Harry.”
“I do. Now, is your Aunt Frances aware of your gift?”
Gift? Didn’t he mean curse? Well, he saw ghosts too. She’d wager it was not as complicated for him as it was for her. “Yes, Aunt Frances knows. No doubt Sir John does as well. There are not too many secrets between him and Aunt Frances.”
“I just needed to know how you felt. I’d never bring any undue discomfort to you. If you do not want me to, I will not bring up the subject before them.”
“I don’t mind, but can you tell them for me?”
“Of course, Rowena. I will be honored to relay what took place when the ghost of William Dulac visited you. We shall say you just bespoke it to me as we met in the hall this moment.”
Good thinking on Harry’s part. She did not want to admit to anyone she put her tongue in Harry’s mouth and almost touched his man thing last night.
Together, they fixed their plates at the sideboard in the dining room. Sir John was already seated. Aunt Frances joined them some minutes later. Once the four of them were situated, Harry relayed the tale of William Dulac’s visit to Rowena. Rowena added some of her own comments. Neither Aunt Frances nor Sir John made a fuss. They simply accepted the fact that she saw William Dulac’s ghost as easily as Harry did.
Following breakfast, Rowena and Frances made their guest list for the picnic and Ball. They joined Harry, who was perusing the library for any tomes that might aid in their search. Sir John napped in a large chair before the fireplace until Lyon, Micah and Charlie arrived mid-morning.
Lyon was his jovial and gallant self. Charlie was polite and affable. Micah was hardly able to contain himself. It was Lyon who told of Micah staying up most of the night to read William Dulac’s letter and peruse through The History of the Dulacs of Glastonbury.
Black satchel in hand, Micah immediately sat at the large table in the library and began removing numerous books, the letter and a pile of papers from his case. “Sit down, I have much to tell!” He looked up at all, still standing where they were. “Lady Sperring, Lady Rowena, there is a great deal to tell you about your family, the Dulacs. Sit down, please,” he urged, his excitement evident.
“But Micah,” Frances began as she sat next to him, “in truth we are not Dulacs, but Fotherby’s, because of William Dulac not truly being Lady Dulac’s grandson, you know,” Frances said as the company moved to sit at the massive table.
“William Dulac married Ann Dulac, his second cousin. You are still Dulacs. And Fotherbys. Or should I say Del Acqs.” He spelled that name aloud, as well as the next he provided, “or Du Lacs.”
Everyone sat waiting for Micah to enlighten them to the significance of what he just told them.
“Which means…?” Harry raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“Ah, so sorry. I forget not everyone knows about genealogy, noble lineage and Arthurian bloodlines as I do. It appears, ladies, that your ancestors have been here since somewhere around A.D. 37. Of course that is the time when Joseph of Arimathea, your ancestor, by the way, came to Glastonbury permanently. He was here before that time. It is even mentioned in the Bible that his title was Nobilis Decurio, minister of the mines. It is a historical fact that tin was mined in Somerset and Cornwall at that time. Tin was used in making alloys. And the Romans used much tin. Joseph was in charge of the Roman tin trade. Also, Joseph was a voting member of the Sanhedrin. He was the uncle of Jesus, as well as a disciple. Joseph of Arimathea was a wealthy and learned man who became the head of Mary’s household when Jesus’ father Joseph died. His line, as well as his nephew’s, Jesus, intermarried with the Del Acqs line.”
Micah looked up, noted their blank stares. “Avallach. Avallon. The house of Avallon Del Acqs. Viviane Del Acqs, the Lady of the Lake. Then through Lancelot Du Lac. The name later changed to Du Lac. Which over time became Dulac. One word.”
Rowena and Aunt Frances gasped in pleased surprise.
“I’d no idea.” Frances shook her head. A happy expression lit her features. “That is truly astonishing, Micah. Thank you so much for pointing that out. What a wonderful thing to discover. I am happy we are still Dulacs after all.”
“Incredible. So the Dulacs are tied to Glastonbury for centuries. I made the connection to Del Acqs and Du Lacs, but I did not realize it was the same as the Arthurian Del Acqs. Of course, there are so many who think Arthur was just a myth. Unless you have research
ed. What a surprise!” Rowena smiled happily.
She glanced in Harry’s direction. She saw he too was smiling. He gave her a quick wink. She felt tingly all over. She quickly composed herself and returned her attention to Micah, whom she felt was far too animated for a man who had no sleep the previous night.
“Anyone who is familiar with genealogy might also be aware of your lineage. I think just being tied to Jesus, Joseph of Arimathea, the house of Avallon Del Acqs and King Arthur might present another reason why someone would be interested in your history and home. True, there might be other secrets the Dulacs protected, ones we know nothing about - yet. Not to mention the fact, and I do not mean to frighten you, ladies, that if someone wanted to marry into a noble line, your line is an ancient, highly noble, and therefore a much desired one. And Lady Rowena is as yet unmarried.”
“But Micah,” Rowena spoke sternly, stricken for a moment at the mention of marriage, “many Kings claim to trace their ancestry to King Arthur, and many nobles have royal blood in their lineage. There are possibly hundreds of unmarried ladies with the same bloodline as I have.”
Harry saw Rowena pale at the mention of marriage. Hmm?
“True, Lady Rowena, I am just presenting another possibility as to why someone might take an interest in the books which were stolen. The History of the Dulacs of Glastonbury does not go back as far as St. Joseph of Arimathea, but it does include Viviane Del Acqs, the first. It also mentions her daughters Viviane Del Acqs the second and Ygerna Del Acqs, who is Igraine from Arthurian legend, and who ultimately married King Arthur’s father.”
Micah rose. “In that same book I learned that the Dulacs or Del Acqs have always been tied to the Vetusta Ecclesia, the old church and later the Abbey, as well as the chapel in nearby Beckery, but mostly to the Tor.”
Pausing to draw a deep breath, Micah continued, “It is believed the original church was dedicated to the Virgin Mary by Joseph of Arimathea and some believe, by Jesus himself. There is also some speculation that the old church was built to honor Mary Magdalene, and then when the Virgin Mary Cult grew strong, the name of the old church was shortened to St. Mary’s. Interestingly enough, the original wattle church was believed by some to have been built the same year that Mary Magdalene died in France, A.D. 63, and by others well before A.D. 37.”
“Why would it be dedicated to Mary Magdalene over the Virgin Mary?” Rowena asked, then searched her memory for theories she’d read regarding Mary Magdalene. “Ah, because it was believed she came here to Glastonbury too, in addition to France? Or because of her relation to Jesus.”
“Because of her druidic ties in France, her relation to Jesus, yes, and also because of her supposed visit to Glastonbury. When the Oratory in Beckery was established in her honor. Then there are some who believe, and there are a few snippets of recorded history that suggest that Mary Magdalene was the mother of Jesus Christ’s children. Some say there was only one child, some say as many as three,” Micah uttered softly, unsure of the response he might receive from his last statement.
“Yes! I do remember reading something quite like that, Micah,” Rowena acknowledged, unaffected by what Micah just said. “I was always intrigued by such a notion. I did not give it much thought at the time. I need to delve deeper and look at that theory again.”
Micah continued, “As you may or may not be aware, it is believed, in myth anyway, that Glastonbury was the Avalon mentioned in the Arthurian tales, and that the Lady of the Lake, Viviane Del Acqs, a druid priestess, headed one school of druids located here in Glastonbury. Some speculate her school was for women, possibly on the Tor or at Beckery or at Wearyall Hill, or Wirrall Hill as it was once known. Of course, it is a proven fact there were Druidic Colleges here in Britain for young men of the well to do from all over the known world at that time. And one for women as well, that is sometimes referred to as the monastery of holy virgins. Julius Caesar even mentions these Druidic colleges in Britain in his letters. It is believed Pontius Pilate himself was schooled at one of these colleges.”
He continued, “Remembering the Lady of the Lake’s school for women sparked my memory to certain recorded and fairly well documented ancient history of Glastonbury. I think I now understand what William meant in his letter. Oh, where is it?” Micah searched his pile of papers and pulled the letter out. He adjusted his spectacles before continuing. “William said regarding the sapphire and the cruets, that they were taken to an underground chamber at a site removed from the Abbey, the place of an ancient lady saint, also a place of a miracle by St. Mary, which was according to the Abbot a truly ancient and holy ground, and long connected to the old church and the Abbey.”
The room was silent. All eyes again rested on Micah.
He searched the eyes of their party for a glimmer of understanding on any of their faces. Finding none, he said, “The Chapel of St. Bridget at Beckery.”
“Of course. The place of an ancient lady saint!” Rowena acknowledged. “The chapel has been gone for centuries I believe.”
“Yes, St. Bridget’s at Beckery would make sense.” Harry nodded thoughtfully. “For the Abbot was, even months before he was arrested, being watched and was at some point ordered to remain confined to his residence at Sharpham by Doctor Layton. Some months later, he was apparently allowed back to the Abbey for mundane, daily affairs. Beckery is on the road to Sharpham, and near enough for the Abbot and William to possibly get there unnoticed. Perhaps the Abbot and William even went there to pray while the Abbot was confined to Sharpham. And William’s letter did state that the place of the lady saint was off of the abbey grounds.”
“Quite right, Harry. I did forget the Abbot was confined to Sharpham for a time.” Micah noted, “Then the Beckery theory does fit nicely doesn’t it? If you all remember before drainage was installed in this area, parts of modern day Glastonbury and its surrounds were all watery lakes, marshland and islands. Most pilgrims arrived to the Abbey by boat. Near Beckery. As we know there was a small chapel at Beckery, the first and smallest honored St. Mary Magdalene. A church not quite as old as the Vetusta Ecclesia at the Abbey, but surely built in the same century. I read that some believe it was an oratory that Magdalene herself founded.”
Micah walked alongside the library table as he spoke, “There was a long established pilgrimage to the Chapel at Beckery to honor Mary Magdalene before the arrival of Bridget. St. Bridget arrived in A.D. 488 to worship at the oratory of Mary Magdalene. After Bridget’s passing, the chapel was rebuilt, made larger, and renamed to honor her. Her bell, spindle and pouch were left behind. They were venerated and worshipped relics at the chapel.”
He drew a deep breath, then continued, “History records that Beckery was inhabited by a group of “Holy Virgins”, believed to be at either the chapel grounds or nearby Wearyall Hill. The area was even known as the Women’s Quarter, for as you know, no females were allowed to stay within the Abbey walls. It is also thought the Convent of Holy Virgins was possibly one of the three perpetual choirs mentioned from ancient times, the other two believed to have been in the area of Salisbury and lastly, North Wales. It is possible by Arthur’s time, roughly the fifth or sixth century, A.D. the choir ceased to exist. I did not find an exact year the choir was abolished. But the convent of the Holy Virgins remained.”
Still walking up one side of the library table and down the other, Micah went on, “Pilgrims coming to the old church stopped to hold vigil in the chapel or at the convent to purify themselves, before continuing their pilgrimage to the sacred old church, the Lady Chapel at the Abbey, truly the first above ground church in the world. For in A.D. 37 when Joseph of Arimathea came to Glastonbury, Christians were still worshipping underground in Greece and Rome and everywhere else Christianity reached.”
“But, what of a miracle by St. Mary at Beckery.” Lyon questioned. “Any recorded history of that?”
“Yes, from John of Glastonbury. Which is also very similar to many tales in the Grail Romances. Do any of you recall from the roman
ces when Arthur is led to a chapel, which is identified in many writings as Becker, Beckerau, Beckery, or names sounding similar?”
“Yes, and he has a vision of the Virgin Mary and the Infant Jesus,” Harry contributed.
“And she presented a crystal cross to him which he gifted to the Abbot of Glastonbury. Arthur went on to change his coat of arms from the red dragon of Pendragon, to a crystal cross on vert, with the image of the Virgin and Child in the corner,” Rowena added.
“Which then was adopted as the coat-of-arms of Glastonbury Abbey,” Lyon pointed out.
Micah continued. “Yes. Correct on all accounts. Arthur was making a pilgrimage to the Vetusta Ecclesia, the old church, the Lady Chapel in the Abbey. Due to Glastonbury being surrounded by water at that time, and Ponter’s Ball being the defensive earthworks protecting the Abbey to the southeast of the Tor, one had to cross over Pont-Perles or Pomparles, a bridge, though the one remaining is not the original bridge, to reach the chapel at Beckery and the convent of the Holy Virgins at Wirral, or Wearyall Hill. From there, Pilgrims made their way to the Vetusta Ecclesia.”
Lord of the Abbey Page 10